Jonathan Epstein, Malcolm Ingram and Ariel Bock --
the three main characters in the romantic intrigue. Not shown but adding
once again to the mystery and fun is Julie Nelson as as brunette waitress
and mysterious red-haired "Dick"

I was't the only one who found Private Eyes one of the most engaging
shows to arrive in the Berkshires last summer. Audiences came and told
their friends and this amusing relationship romp became a "hot" ticket.
Now it's back with the original cast intact. Unfortunately, the continued
renovation of the mount dictates that the terrace outside the parlor remains
inaccessible so that the parlor-theater isn't as cool as the next door
dining room where cookies and lemonade are served at intermission. So forwarned,
aim to see it on a cool rather than a muggy night.

This season's return engagement began August 10th and continues
through the leaf season-- to October 17th.

How nice . . . to be able to launch the summer '98 review season
by singing the praises of a thoroughly entertaining trip taken with people
who, caught in the grip of the twin fevers of passionate love and perverse
suspicion, spin back and forth between reality and illusion. Seattle playwright
Steven Dietz, while prolific, widely produced and much praised, is best
known via the regional theater circuit. In case you're unfamiliar with
his work, you'll be thanking Shakespeare & Company for bringing Private
Eyes, which premiered last year at the prestigious Humana Festival
in Kentucky, to the Berkshires.

It has as many layers as an onion and as each layer is peeled away you
think you know what's going on in the minds and lives of its characters
-- until the next layer is shed and you realize you know less. To borrow
a phrase from Winston Churchill what we have is a riddle wrapped in a mystery
inside an enigma. It's a funny riddle -- as in chuckfull of laughs funny.
Yet bubbling beneath the farcical film noire sensibility are enough
serious ideas about the perilous power of suspicion and the sobering aspects
of confronting truth to engage your heart and mind.

The convoluted twists and turns are framed within the context of a play
within a play. It begins with Lisa (Ariel Bock) auditioning for a role
as a waitress. Her interaction with Matthew (Jonathan Epstein) the director
is cryptic and evasive, the sort of power play that reminded me of the
trio of connected plays about this subject seen just a few days earlier
in New York (see link at end). He won't tell her what he wants, she denies
having any waitressing experience.won't tell him that she actually is a
waitress. Yet in their next meeting, (in a restaurant) she is a
waitress (albeit one claiming that she's a writer whose subject is depression
-- not the historical kind, but her personal state of mind). This being
her turf, she's also now the one in control -- until the real director
(Malcolm Ingram) steps in and we discover that Lisa and Matthew are married
and have been rehearsing a play about (what else?) marital infidelity.

I won't go on but you've probably got the idea that even though the
play features a Private Eye (Julie Nelson), you as an audience member had
best look sharp to figure out what's real and what isn't, to sift the truth
(which Matthew at one point declares to be "air") from the lies and deceptions.
The scenes following that initial audition and restaurant scene gallop
along until "push comes to shout" , with dialogue that fairly snaps and
crackles with humor -- and, yes, pain.

To add to the deliciously consistent confusion, there's Frank (Robert
D. Lohbauer) who turns out to be both Lisa and Matthew's therapist and
Corey a chamelonic waitress and/or Private Eye. Both these characters illustrate
the playwright's gift for metaphoric word play: In introducing himself
to Matthew during their first session, the therapist says "I'm Frank" to
which Matthew replies "I hope you are. . ." Corey's name is an allusion
to her stormy impact on the state of affairs (no pun intended, but. . .).

The actors playing these complex characters couldn't be better at investing
their parts with all the nuances and precise timing the script demands.
They handle their line readings of the frequent repeat sequences without
a memory stumble. Jonathan Epstein's Matthew is amusing yet torn. His impeccable
timing and diction make one anticipate his Shylock scheduled for later
in the season. Ariel Bock deftly navigates a variety of moods and Malcolm
Ingram has the grandiose and controlling British director down pat. Julie
Nelson handles her double persona as brunette waitress and red-haired "Dick"
(as she prefers to be called) with panache while Robert D. Lohbauer is
appropriately low key as the therapist who, like everyone else has his
own agenda.

The set, such as it is, consists of a few tables and chairs with two
grips dressed as hotel maids efficiently creating a bed for the lovers
and a few bits of business such as two paper party hats used to transform
Matthew into a clown like cuckold. As with many productions in this living
room theater, the stagecraft is largely a case of making something out
of practically nothing .

While Private Eyes would no doubt be fun to see with more
elaborate production values, seeing it in the very special intimacy of
the Wharton Theater more than compensates for the bare bones approach dictated
by the space. The fact that the actors are virtually within touching distance
so that they can look you right in the eye underscores the play's underlying
theme that people though intimately connected often lack the courage to
look deep and honestly into each other's eyes. It gives this fine play
the same sort of intimate edge that made last summer's Shakespeare &
Company revival of Harold Pinter's Betrayal a similarly special
and memorable experience.